No two people meet by accident
Meeting a stranger twice was never in my plans
The following passage is a continuation of my previous post, ‘God, show me your fingerprints.” Read that first, and then come back here. It’ll make more sense.
My friend Tiffany and I made plans to grab dinner last Tuesday evening. I left it all in her hands to pick the spot and make the reservation—once a meticulous planner, I’ve come to love letting other people handle things and not having control over where I end up.
As I heard my alarm at 6:15AM on Tuesday morning, I woke up feeling tired and not at all in the mood to socialize, or frankly, to eat out. The idea of coming home from work by 6PM, doing an evening workout and cooking some veggies and a protein, all to be in bed by 9 o’clock, sounded way more lovely.
But then I asked myself—is that desire coming from a place of fear?
I unpacked the onion.
Why don’t I feel like socializing today? What’s the real reason why I don’t want to eat out? Am I worried about missing a workout? Am I trying to avoid potential discomfort from food that’s not made by my own two hands? Am I trying to isolate?
Then, I asked myself—what would joy do?
Joy would go. Joy would love to be in Tiffany’s company. Joy would feel excited to try a new restaurant and taste new dishes and feel inspired by the interior decor. Joy would prefer having an evening to remember, versus one that feels monotonous. Joy wouldn’t choose comfort; joy would LIVE.
So, I proceeded on with the day knowing that choosing light over darkness would serve me (no pun intended), and that I would not be arriving to my apartment at 6PM this evening.
Fast-forward, 5:15PM. Reservation was at 5:30. But I was a 20-minute walk to the restaurant (Gjelina). Still at work, my inbox was getting full, and I had to get an email out to my clients before I sat at dinner. But I was waiting for my producer to send me the video links and based on her latest DM, it wouldn’t come for another 15 minutes…fuck.
Ok, maybe I start walking…and if it comes through, I’ll find a coffee shop, be that non-customer who uses the free-wifi, make no eye-contact, and walk out with a smile as I proceed to my evening plans.
Ok, cool. Solid plan.
Like clockwork, at minute 14 of my 20-minute walk, the link was in my inbox. I looked around SoHo and saw a Gregory’s Coffee a block down and it was on the way to Gjelina. Perfect!
I sat down in the empty coffee shop, made zero eye-contact, signed into the wifi, opened up my email drafts, dropped the link in, pressed ‘send’, placed my laptop back in my back, put my gloves on and walked out as if none of that just happened.
A few minutes later, I walked into Gjelina and greeted Tiffany, a true beacon of light who never fails to make my 4-year old self inside of me light up (we met when we were four and have been best-friends ever since). Immediately, I felt grateful that I showed up.
To summarize the atmosphere of Gjelina: a bi-level space with a woodfire oven and an open kitchen, serving a vegetable-centric menu and fermented pizza, with an interior that balances dimly lit tables, chic furniture and earth tones, making you feel like you’re in California. A full expression of my taste and aesthetics.
Fast-forward to a few hours later, where my tummy was full off delicious vegetables and a half-breast chicken that made my mouth water, where my mind was expanded and my heart was even more satiated than my belly, Tiffany and I put on our hats, scarves and coats and walked to the staircase to make our way out.
Now—let me preface something about myself. I have eyes like an owl. I can spot someone instantaneously. I am keenly aware of my surroundings and I recognize people in a heartbeat. I can spot a celeb instantaneously. “How the fuck did you notice them?!” a friend will ask. To which I respond with, “I don’t know, I just looked over and saw them!”
As we walked through an insanely packed restaurant where every table was full, not only with bodies but with empty and full dishes, my friend said a comment that made me turn around, to which, in that exact moment, my eyes panned to the far corner of the restaurant, as if guided by an unseen Divine force.
Wait a minute.
I know this woman.
I kept walking. Head slightly turned backward.
Wait a second…
How do I know this woman?
I stop at the staircase to get another look.
Oh my god.
I know the man, too.
OH…my GOD.
OH MY GOD.
Let me give the back-story before I tell you who it was.
Back in September, my brother got married in Los Angeles and we took our family wedding pictures at the Beverly Hills Hotel (iconic, I know).
During our down-time, where my brother went to have his first look with my now sister-in-law, my father and I wandered through the hotel grounds, people-watching, exploring, and receiving complements on our black-tie attire and how gorgeous I looked.
Now, I’ve been there before. During spring break in college, my two girlfriends and I went to the Beverly Hills Hotel and paid $30 each for coffee and a bowl of fries to share. We were pissed by the price but simultaneously loved every aspect of it—the ambiance, environment, the people-watching—and the expansion we experienced was well worth the overpriced coffee and subpar fries.
But, this was my dad’s first time there. And he wanted to see all of it, rightfully so. It was also the weekend of the Emmy’s…so the hotel was packed.
As we entered the outdoor area, my father wanted to go down to the pool to take a look. Given the fact that I was wearing a long gown with a train and a pair of four inch heels, I told him to proceed without me and that I’d wait at the top.
Next thing I know, my dad was walking back up the stairs. This time, with two well-dressed couples, each to the side of him.
Oh god. Who did my dad talk to now? I looked and smiled as they made their way up.
My father introduced me. Very nice people. Both of the wives complimented my look, telling me how beautiful I looked. Love girls like that.
“So, where are you from?” My dad asked them, his classic go-to line that has now become the first question I ask when I meet a stranger. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
“We’re from here, actually. Just came by for lunch. How about yourself?” one of the men replied.
“We’re actually from New Jersey, super small town…[for the sake of privacy, let’s call my parent’s town Mystic Falls]…but we’re here because my son is getting married today!”
“Wait…Mystic Falls?! That’s where my sister lives!!!” says wife #1. My father and I both look at her in disbelief. What?! No WAY! What a small world!
The town I grew up in has a population of 6,000 people. Whenever I tell someone I’m from New Jersey and share what town I’m from, they usually have never heard of it. To make the conversation less awkward, I typically give another popular town name and tell them I’m 10 minutes from there.
So the fact that this couple we met had a sister who lives in my parents town, a few blocks down from my parent’s home…was insane.
As we walked back into the hotel, we continued chatting about the different parts of “Mystic Falls” that we both love, the gym my parents go to, and then about the venue in Simi Valley where my brother will soon get married.
Before we departed, my father asked what both of the men do for work.
“I’m a producer!” stated wife #1’s husband.
“Oh, he’s selling himself short. He’s an Emmy-award winning Executive Producer,” whispers husband #2 directly to me.
“Wow, no way. I’m an author but now writing my first screenplay…I’m taking this as a sign! What did he win for?”
“Well, you met the right guy right there! A show called The Americans.”
I didn’t get a chance to pitch myself to him, nor did I share what my screenplay was about, nor did I even get his name. But in that moment, I took it as a sign. We said our goodbyes, not only to these couples but also to the magical moment that we just experienced, and made our way back to my brother’s hotel room to tell my mom everything that just happened.
While I had been writing my first screenplay since Spring of last year, I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing, nor did I think I was ever good enough for something of that caliber.
And then, all of a sudden, I randomly met an expert in the industry, a man who works right under Steven Spielberg (per my Google deep dive), and his wife who has shopped in the outdoor mall in my little hometown.
A few days later, I found his Instagram and sent him a DM. No response. I then emailed five different email variations using his first and last name, with only one of them not getting a bounce back. A week passed and there still was no response.
Despite not hearing from him, I knew at the time I had met him for a reason. That God placed this man in front of me as a signal to continue pursuing my screenplay, despite all of the doubt in my mind and all of the reasons why it’s “too hard”.
As Paulo Coehlo one’s said…“When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.”
You might’ve put two and two together by now….but, let’s fast-forward to Gjelina.
That couple sitting? Same wife and husband as the “Emmy Award Winning Executive Producer and My Sister Lives in Mystic Falls” duo that I briefly met at the Beverly Hills Hotel four months earlier.
I start to freak out, internally, that is. My heart was jumping, ready to walk over to their table and say something cheesy like what are the odds!!! But my legs moved towards the staircase, a signal from my body knowing that no wasn’t the time.
Plus, the restaurant was insanely crowded, they were in the back corner, I had my work bag and a take-out bag, bundled up in a big coat, and getting through to their table would’ve been clunky and likely would’ve caused disturbance. All in all—it wasn’t the vibe.
Tiffany basked in my joy after I told her the significance.
I called my dad right away. “GUESS who I just saw while I was out to dinner. No, no. Dad it’s crazy. Remember that producer we met at the Beverly Hills Hotel? The one I emailed but he never responded? Well…I was just at the same restaurant as him! I saw him and his wife from far away! Like…what are the odds?!”
“Oh my god…WOW! THAT’S CRAZY! DID YOU GO UP TO HIM? OH NO, YOU DIDN’T? KARIN…THAT WAS A MISSED OPPORTUNITY! BUT WOW THAT’S SO CRAZY I CAN’T BELIEVE IT!”
“I know, I know…I just couldn’t, it wasn’t the right atmosphere. But it’s okay, I’m taking it as a sign!”
My mom called me an hour later, and I essentially had the same conversation with her, expect it was her who beat me to the punch and said “THIS IS A SIGN!”
I’m not quite sure what the odds are of that ever happening—meeting the same stranger within the span of four months, in two completely different cities across the country, at the same restaurant in Manhattan (a city that has 17,219 restaurants), at the same exact time.
I’m not sure what the odds are of me tilting my head backwards at the precise moment my eyes had a direct line of sight to their table.
I began thinking back to all of the strangers I’ve met in passing who left a mark on me—at airports, in foreign towns, on the street in my neighborhood or waiting on line at Trader Joe’s.
I’ve always thought that those random moments with a stranger are just that—random moments that never come across again with those specific people. It is a cherished and sacred experience that leaves a permanent mark on you and the other, partly because you both know that it would be the first and last time you bask in each other’s presence. Thus, you don’t take it for granted. You simmer deeply in it because you know how rare that level of connection really is.
Now, for me, the significance isn’t solely in the couple I saw again. What left me feeling awe and wonder was the mere fact that approximately 12 hours earlier, I prayed to see God’s fingerprints, to hear his voice and witness his magic.
And he answered. At a dinner table at Gjelina Restaurant in SoHo at 7:37pm. He worked through “Emmy Award Winning Executive Producer and My Sister Lives in Mystic Falls” to remind me I am exactly where he has placed me, that I am on his path and following his plan versus mine,
The following morning, I texted my mom as I usually do.
I stand by what I said—if I met him twice, I surely know God will let me meet him again.
And the timing will be perfect.
Because I will be ready.
Ready to not only receive the blessing…but also to hold and carry it forward.
PS: I'd love to hear your thoughts about this piece. Did this shift anything for you? Does my experience feel similar to yours? Let me know in the comments!
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Just read both parts in a row and i’m truly lost for words it’s really crazy how life works in so many different ways and how you describe and put your feelings into words was fascinating it felt as if i was apart of that story.! keep up the good work🤍
Divinely orchestrated 🙌🏻
Sign started when you woke up feeling tired and not in the mood. You could've fed that and missed the blessing but you chose the light over darkness and received the blessing that was waiting for you.